


That Would Be Enough

by Agent_of_Influence



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Brotherhood, Could be viewed as Tallster, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Tallster, used to be a one shot but I added on to it whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2018-07-12 19:39:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7119718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agent_of_Influence/pseuds/Agent_of_Influence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How did Caleb deal with the news that Ben and his men got caught in Roger’s trap from Season 1? How did Ben?  Tallster fluff</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I'm so excited to share my first fanfic with you and I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think in the comments! Thanks!

Caleb pulled the whaleboat to shore and disguised it with leaves. After a quick sweep of his surroundings, he went over to where he had left his horse tied off to a log.

“Hey there, how’d you make out today?” he whispered as he stroked the horse’s mane.

“I had a good day of it, thanks for asking,” he continued, laughing silently to himself. He reached in his saddlebag for the last apple, and, after taking a bite himself, offered it to the horse. After all, this particular horse was Ben’s current camp favorite apart from his own; therefore Caleb made a point to take good care of her.

“Alright time to head back now,” Caleb told the jet-black horse as he mounted and commanded her to start off toward the road back to camp. Although this area and the road had been considered secure for some time now, Caleb still couldn’t quite bring himself to ride openly down the center. Instead he kept to the shadows the tree line provided, riding quickly for camp under the cover of darkness. He felt like he was gliding through the countryside, his heart light after a day of catching up with Abraham. He couldn’t wait to tell Ben all about how their friend was, and how it appeared as though their plan would work perfectly.

Upon arrival at camp, Caleb rode over to the hitching post where his energy deflated instantly. There were barely any horses hitched, a telltale sign that the majority of the dragoons were still out on the nightly patrols and raids. Unlike most commanders in the camp, Ben held not only the position of 2nd Light Dragoon Commander, but also aided the Head of Intelligence for General Washington. While his dragoons were lauded with praise for being the most successful troop in the Continental Army, Ben’s men were also well known for having the lengthiest missions.

Caleb liked to joke with Ben that the sandman was going to cut Ben and his men out of his evening route if Ben kept this up for the rest of the war. Ben would always laugh and shrug it off. Still, Caleb ensured to occasionally have Ben woken up purposefully late on the morning after returning from particularly hard missions.

Making a pass by the Dragoons section of tents and campfires just in case, Caleb kept his eyes peeled for any of Ben’s men.

“Can I help ya sir?” a hardened man asked from a group of men around a campfire as Caleb passed.

“Maybe Sergeant, I’m looking for Major Benjamin Tallmadge,” Caleb said. It never hurts to ask.

“Major Benjamin Tallmadge,” the man repeated while sharing a look with his fellow soldiers at the fire. It was not a pleasant look.

“It’s unfortunate that is, sir,” another younger dragoon said to Caleb somberly, “The 2nd Dragoons were ambushed by the Queen’s Rangers, only one man managed to escape back here this morning. Scuttlebutt is the rest are all dead.” Caleb felt numb, like he had been completely doused with ice water. Before he could say anything, the younger man began to speak again.

“Sir, it may still be him, he came into camp in a British uniform and he’s been in briefing higher command, maybe wait to see when he comes out…” the soldier trailed off apologetically. The odds of that man being Ben were incredibly slim.

“Thank you,” Caleb spoke quietly. His heart in his throat, he walked over to pace and wait near the building for higher headquarters. Caleb wasn’t often a very religious man, but he prayed to God all the same for his best friend as he waited. How sharply this day has taken a turn for the worst, he thought. He tried not to think about what had been happening while he was eating and having fun with Abraham earlier. I could have been there, done something more, helped Ben… Caleb thought irrationally, knowing there was nothing he could have done.

Suddenly the door to the command post creaked open, and Caleb’s heart stopped.

There, in the doorway, stood a man from the 2nd Dragoons wrapped in a blanket, unmistakable to Caleb as the one and only Benjamin Tallmadge. As Caleb rushed to his side, he noticed bandages and pants that weren’t Ben’s and the familiar chestnut hair in a messy braid. Most strikingly, he noticed Ben’s eyes as they locked with his own, a sea of sadness with a streak of rage. Letting his own eyes say what he could not speak aloud, Caleb stared back at Ben, lingering for a moment before carefully drawing him into their usual return-to-camp hug.

“Benny-boy! Glad to see you back!” Caleb greeted cheerfully as always. Pulling away with a faint ghost of a smile, Ben waited as he let Caleb quickly survey him with more detail. Ben subconsciously tried to draw the blanket around his bandaged shoulder and shirtless torso, and finally replied with a full grin, “You’re the only one I’m glad to see in this camp and that’s the honest truth.” The pair started to walk in the direction of their tents, and Caleb couldn’t help but notice how tired and pale Ben looked in the passing campfire light.

“How did the meeting go?” Ben asked, looking at Caleb expectantly.

“Better than good, Tallboy, Abraham’s his same old self and I can’t wait to tell you all about it tomorrow,” Caleb said, preparing for the inevitable backlash.

“Caleb Brewster you –,” Ben began, leaning on the front beam of his tent frame.

“Tomorrow,” Caleb said firmly. “Unless you want to tell me tonight…” he lowered his voice and trailed off softly, searching Ben’s face.

“Tomorrow it is then,” Ben said equally firm with a genuine smile that still didn’t quite reach his eyes. “And no…not yet, but Caleb,” he looked earnestly into Caleb’s gaze, “thank you.”

“I’m just a tent away if you need anything,” Caleb said. Ben nodded and after a gentle cup of Caleb’s jaw and final clap on the shoulder, they went their separate ways. The country may be at war, the 2nd Light Dragoons decimated, but tonight they still had each other, and that would be enough for now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know...it was supposed to be a one shot. I decided to keep going with it. Thanks to all who left kudos and supportive comments. Enjoy!

The sunlight crept under the tent flap entrance and snaked across the floor. Ben held back a groan as he peeled open his eyes. It felt like he’d been asleep for years and his body felt like it had two times his weight pressing on top of him. Worst of all, every inch of Ben’s skin was hot and sweaty. He’d always hated sweat the most. Although he had absolutely no desire to, Ben knew he had to get up and try to get some work done today.  
  
He reached up to softly check the wound in his shoulder. It had been packed with dressing last night, but needed changing already. His sweating into it for who knows how long couldn’t have been good for it. _Besides,_ Ben thought bitterly, _I need it to heal properly so I won’t miss when I shoot those bastard Rangers._  
  
Unexpected tears welled in Ben’s eyes as the events of yesterday forced their way to the front of his attention. He rubbed at the tears angrily and mentally pushed the sorrow for his lost men down and away. Rage filled that space. Guilt hit Ben hard as he welcomed his anger. His command and their intelligence had let him down, but ultimately the Rangers had been after Ben. _I failed those men_ , Ben thought.  
  
Thankfully, Ben had written his report of the ambush yesterday. Today’s business would consist of consulting Caleb and working the Abraham angle while command worked to find more men to transfer to the 2nd Light Dragoons. Shifting slowly and with constant complaints from his shoulder, Ben finally sat up on the side of his cot. Gripping the mattress edge tightly, he steadied himself and reached for the canteen on the rickety bedside table. The weight of it surprised Ben and he smiled; Caleb must’ve been by and refilled it while Ben slept.  
  
The water soothed his dry throat. Setting it back down, Ben steeled himself as he prepared to stand. Everything went well except for a small wince he let slip to his face. _Not good enough_ , Ben thought. He sat down to try it again. He’d have to convince General Clinton and Caleb Brewster if he wanted to get any work done this week. He stood again. _There, it’ll have to do._ If he grit his teeth each time, nothing else would betray his face.  
  
Quickly, Ben cleaned and changed the dressing, wiped the sweat from his face, and changed into a clean uniform. After another swig of water from the canteen, Ben grabbed his coat. Pulling back the tent flap, Ben swept out of the tent as he usually would.  
  
Caleb was over with some of the other scouts and privateers, apparently joking and practicing their aim with his axe. Spotting Ben after pulling his axe from the tree trunk like it was nothing, Caleb smiled and half-jogged over to him.  
  
“Morning!” he practically sang at Ben as he followed Ben over to the fire outside Caleb’s tent.  
  
“Hey,” Ben replied as he looked into the pot on the fire,“We need to talk.”  
  
Caleb laughed. “If you were a girl I’d be worried that you’re pregnant." Changing tactics, Caleb cleared his throat and lowered his voice saying, “We do. Have some food first.” Ben nodded and sat by the fire. Caleb joined him. Ben finally laughed.  
  
Digging into the plate of soup with meatCaleb had made, Ben questioned, “Do I dare ask what this is or where you got it?” Caleb smiled.

“Nope,” he replied playfully, “but I got a very good deal on it.” They both laughed again. 

Ben continued to eat while Caleb brought up the camp gossip. When he was done, Ben set the plate down and looked at Caleb. “So…Abraham,” Ben started.  
  
“Abraham,” Caleb smiled, “is ready. Our boys should’ve picked him up on his way back last night. I think this is gonna work, too. Abe’s loyal, maybe not to the cause just yet, but to us.” Caleb moved to the edge of his seat and grinned even wider. “He’s loyal to you and me.”  
  
Ben tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. “I think my visit will have to determine that.”

"Are you up for that?" Caleb asked, "You were shot yesterday." Ben really wasn't looking great. Caleb hadn't missed noticing the sweat and pallor of his friend. Not to mention that Ben had eaten less than half of what he normally did.

Ben's posture straightened and his eyes hardened. "I'm perfectly fine. We need Abe on our side and until I speak with him we don't know where we stand. We can't waste any time if we want this to work."

Caleb frowned but let the matter drop. He took his canteen out and offered a drink to Ben, who accepted gratefully.

"What's the next move?" Caleb asked.

"I'll confront Abe asking for his contact. When we know his loyalty, we let him leave. Hopefully, he'll choose to help us," Ben said as he stood, "Get ready to leave within the hour. Every hour that Abraham's gone from Setauket makes his return that much more risky."

Standing and bouncing on his feet, Caleb winked at him. "Better get a move on then. Abe'll be waiting. Also...if anyone offers you cabbage stew this week, I wouldn't touch it."

Ben gritted his teeth and stood as Caleb left to pack and probably saddle the horses. He swiped at his forehead and returned to his tent. Removing his blue coat and rolling up his shirt sleeves, Ben wet his face at the washbasin. He packed in spurts, resting on whatever surface was closest that could support his weight. Twenty minutes later, Ben was satisfied with his gear and ridiculously tired.

Sitting at his desk, Ben began to write the report for permission to leave camp.  _General Clinton, Last night, 9 Oct., a Tory black marketeer has been captured with potential knowledge of the British presence in Setauket. I hereby give notice to take Lieutenant Brewster to question the prisoner with your permission. Yr. Humble Servant, Captain Benjamin Tallmadge._

Frustrated, he balled up the barely legible note and threw it across the tent with his good arm. His shaky hand complicated things, but he'd be damned before he showed weakness to General Clinton. The man already thought him incompetent and reckless. After painstaking, meticulous strokes and three spoiled sheets of paper, Ben finally had a report suitable to turn in.

Meanwhile, Caleb had packed his gear and was seeing to their horses for the trip. Both horses had been brushed, fed, and rested for a night. Cleaning Ben's horse took more time, once he finally allowing Caleb to groom him after being skittish. Ben's horse wasn't really his; a patrol found the lone dapple-gray bolting through the woods sometime after Ben had arrived at camp. The horse was the only other survivor from the Rangers' raid. Caleb's heart sunk lower after each flinch the horse gave at his touch. "What have you seen?" he whispered as he gently stroked the horse, "What did _he_ see?" 

It wasn't until Caleb moved to cleaning the horse's shoes that he got the idea. Every other horse was either out, about to leave, or worn out apart from these two. After checking for possible witnesses, Caleb set down the shoe pick and picked up the tightener. He patted the horse and said, "Sorry, please don't kick me, alright?" Then he proceeded to loosen one of the shoes. After ten uncomfortable minutes, Caleb held up the fruits of his labor. Hiding the horse shoe in his bag, he left for Ben's tent.

As Caleb approached, he saw Ben leave his tent striding briskly toward the command building. Caleb called out to him but Ben didn't stop. He had to jog over to catch up and step in front of Ben to finally stop him. "Ben don't be upset," he began.

"Caleb, what?" Ben's voice was low and serious but rose dangerously at the end. Caleb was taken aback with the sudden urge to put distance between them, but he held his ground, searching for words as he fidgeted with his coat pocket. It was like getting between an animal and it's food. For a moment there was a fierceness in Ben that Caleb had never seen before.

Caleb shivered involuntarily. "We can't go right now," he said, "You'll need to change the date on that." Caleb's eyes flitted to the report in Ben's hand, as he stepped aside.

Ben took a few steps past Caleb and turned on his heel to face him. "The report -" Ben yelled then lowered his voice, "The report has been written. Abe can't wait. We go today!"

"No, we'll leave tomorrow unless you plan on walking there. Horse threw a shoe." Caleb let Ben process this for a moment, then carefully placed a hand on his good shoulder.

Ben still looked pale and tired. Caleb noticed his jaw was now constantly clenched; his shoulder must be aching. "Come on Tallboy, have a rest."

Ben yanked himself out of Caleb's touch and opened the paper he was holding. After a moment, Ben let his apparent frustration go as he crushed the report in his fist. Ben smiled at Caleb and stepped toward him. Caleb smiled back and put his arm around Ben. "Alright?" he asked. Ben answered with a noncomittal sigh.

Arriving back at the entrance to Ben's tent, Caleb went right inside with him. Helping Ben out of his coat, checking the canteen on the bedside table, and handing Ben a fresh handkerchief to wipe away the sweat from his face and neck, Caleb fussed over Ben as much as he could get away with. "Okay, Caleb, thank you," Ben said pointedly.

"I'll be just outside if you need anything," Caleb bounced on his heels, "Sweet dreams with sweeter ladies!" Ben resisted the urge to throw the pillow at him.

Though it felt good to lay still in his own bed, Ben had an inexplicable problem. He'd been lying here for a while and had nearly drifted off to sleep twice. But every time his eyes closed there was only a moment before his heart raced and his breath quickened. Panic threatened to take over. Pulling himself up to sit in bed, he tried to steady his pulse. He felt numb, yet stressed. Worse, the more he tried to calm down, the stronger the fear seemed to consume him. Ben shakily reached for the canteen and drank gratefully. Setting it back down, it became clear what he needed to be able to sleep.

"Caleb!" Ben's voice was muffled slightly by the thin tent material. Concerned, Caleb entered the tent looking at Ben, who looked nervous.

"You okay?" He sat on the edge of the cot and Ben's eyes met his. "You're right, dumb question," Caleb said. Speaking and moving like he did around the dapple-gray horse, Caleb put his hand on top of Ben's hand as it clutched the blanket tightly. "Ben, what do you need?" Caleb asked softly.

"Stay with me, please." Caleb's heart leapt at Ben's tentative request.

"Of course." Caleb slowly leaned forward to hug Ben. He whispered, "I'm here, I won't leave you. You're not alone." Ben hugged him back. He pulled his head off of Caleb's shoulder and although he still felt tense, he let go of the blanket to bring a hand up to stroke the back of Caleb's neck. They held each other until Ben could successfully match Caleb's warm, slow breaths. Gently, Ben removed Caleb's jacket and hat. Caleb pushed Ben to lay back down, and kicking off his boots, he tenderly helped Ben shift to one side of the small bunk. Caleb slowly lay down beside him and took Ben's hand. They both had all they needed to get through this. "Sleep now," he whispered, "You're safe. We're safe." Caleb smiled as Ben's grip relaxed and his breathing evened out. As long as they had each other, he knew they would make it through.


End file.
